Reminisce
by i.am.a.griffin
Summary: One shots that come to my imagination of after the final war.
1. Yule Ball

Yule Ball

"Do you remember the Yule Ball Harry? I haven't thought about that night in years," Ginny reminisced. "Neville didn't want to stop dancing."

"Missing him, are you?" Ron asked and Ginny shot him a look. They all chuckled.

Ginny sat with her legs crossed in the corner of Hermione's living room sofa with James sitting in her lap. He had his head resting on her belly which had once again rounded out like a beach ball. Harry sat on the floor in front of his wife and son holding James's back so that he wouldn't fall backwards.

"No. I saw him with Hannah at the Leaky Cauldron on my way home from the Prophet. We sat for a drink. He's over at Hogwarts these days."

"Teaching Herbology," Hermione said from the kitchen.

Harry glanced at Ron. "Why is that our wives know so much about our friends and we know nothing?"

"Because your wives have nothing much to do but sit around and wait to pop," Hermione replied. She brought a tray of tea and used her own expanded midsection to balance the weight.

"The Yule Ball was disastrous, really," Harry told his wife. "Ron and I waited for the very last moment to ask for a date and we ended up with the Patil twins. We weren't very enthused. And they eventually were asked to dance by a couple gents from Durmstrang."

"Dolts you mean. And speaking of," Ron said, "how's the dolt that asked you to the ball? What was his name…?"

Ginny laughed. "Like he wasn't your idol until he showed interest in Hermione. Viktor Krum."

"And you know well enough I haven't written to him in years. You always got that screwed up blotchy look in your face when an owl came from him. Yes, that one right there," Hermione said pointing at her husband.

Ron covered his face with a cushion. "You know I never knew why you kept on with him anyways. You ended the night crying all over that dress of yours."

Ginny brought a hand to her mouth and looked at Hermione for her reaction.

"You'd just got done yelling at her for 'fraternizing with the enemy' Ron. You made her cry, not Krum," Harry said, shaking his head. "After all these years, you never realized that?"

Ron stared, dumfounded, into his tea cup.

After a few moments of ponderous thought he said very quietly, "So, back in fourth year…had you wanted me to ask you to the Yule Ball?"

Hermione glanced at Harry with undisguised and mocking disbelief. Harry who raised his eyebrows and grinned. He, Hermione, Ginny, and even James burst into laughter and Ron turned bright red.

"Now he gets it," Harry said, "after you've been wed and pregnant and all too, now you know."

"You knew?" Ron asked, coloring further.

Harry shrugged, "I sort of guessed at first. But then Hermione said she'd already been asked so I didn't say anything. After that yelling match though, in the Entrance Hall, I knew. First time I'd seen her cry like that."

"Bloody hell… I feel like a complete arse."

"You _are_ a complete arse," Ginny said and she playfully held up James in front of her when Ron lifted a cushion to throw at her.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said pulling the cushion from his hands and placing a kiss on top of his head. "Now you won't be able to get rid of me."


	2. On Being Cool

**Thanks to: Lady Elizabeth of New York and PotterNerd94 for reviewing the last chapter!**

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Chapter 2: On Being Cool

The familiar green-eyed wizard with round glasses entered Professor Longbottom's office with a sigh and then a smile.

"Morning Neville," he greeted.

"Hey Harry. Where's Ginny?"

"Off at the pitch. We saw a few first years at their lesson on the way up and she couldn't help herself. But pray tell, what's my son done this time and so soon in the school year. It's barely October. Has he drawn a Grim on Professor Trelawney's carpet or something?"

Both sat silently for a moment, wondering if whether they actually wanted to it themselves or else slip James Potter the idea just to see how the old batty witch would react. They grinned at one another.

"As interesting as that would be to see, James was less intuitive rather than blatantly mischievous. He locked Professor White in potions cupboard during class." Harry made a mental note to remind his eldest son why no one should ever be locked in a cupboard and allowed Neville to continue. "She says it's the fifth time he's done it."

"You'd think after the second time she'd stop going in the cupboard during his class."

Neville nodded his agreement. "I quite agree but as I am his Head of House, I'm meant to punish him. I've already given him a week of detentions. But there's more. This time she mistakenly knocked over a large bottle of Draught of Living Death and well the fumes…"

"She fell asleep during class?"

"And for quite some time thereafter. A first year, frantic, came crying to me that she found Professor White dead. It caused an uproar," Neville told him, leaning back in his desk chair.

"The gossip in this school has always been mad," Harry added. The plant on the corner of the Herbology Professor's desk wrapped a leaf around Harry's wrist. Neville pet the stem soothingly and it released a grip Harry hadn't realized was so tight. "But besides, as awful as it was for us it still rings true - Potions should really only be taught by a Slytherin. White was what, a Hufflepuff?"

"Yes. But at least these students will look back on Potions well if not joy."

"Laughter, in my son's case. Snape would've rightly cursed his fingers off."

Neville closed his eyes to stop himself from shuddering. "I, for one, am glad there are no potions truly to be made in my line of work. Just looking at cauldrons makes me anxious. In fact, I avoid the dungeons altogether if I can."

"You're fear of Snape did inspire that wonderful boggart Professor Lupin used to teach us the _riddikulus_ hex. You remember?"

Despite the noxious thoughts of his childhood fear of the man, Neville grinned. "Vividly. Seeing Snape dressed in my Gran's attire, vulture and all, quite put a hop in my step that day. Though like you said, gossip travels like fiendfyre in this wretched place. He gave me hell for it when he heard. Still hard to believe the truth sometimes but you've name Albus for him so I can't but believe it."

They withdrew into a short moment of silence for the deceased hero.

"Harry, do you remember at Hogwarts during the fight when you disappeared from Hagrid's arms and I chopped off the snake's head with the Sword of Gryffindor?" Neville asked suddenly, as if it'd been on his mind.

Harry smiled, recalling the dramatic moment and the cat calls and cheers in such a dreadful moment. "Of course."

"Mmmm…. I never thought I would be that cool. The students, they read about it in the last chapter of a History of Magic in Binns's class in seventh year. Hermione contributed to that unit you know. Anyways, the first year I was hired on that spread throughout the gossip lines rather quickly. I'm the coolest Professor at Hogwarts. I've never seen so many kids enjoying Herbology. It's probably stupid but I'm cool because of it."

"It isn't stupid. And you've always been cool, since first year when you tried stunning Ron, Hermione and I and you gained us the extra points to win the House Cup. But even if they didn't think it was cool, I do. Probably wouldn't be alive if you hadn't."

Both of them looked up to the mantle on Neville's fireplace where the Sword of Gryffindor had remained for all this time, until of course another brave soul required it. Both had wielded the weapon bravely in time of battle and need. And while Neville was blissfully ignorant of it, Harry knew there was more in common between the two of them than just the sword. Camaraderie is only the beginning.

"So, James's punishment?"

"I'm sure Ginny has something clever, more than suitable for him. Fancy a walk to the pitch?"


	3. Humility of Harry

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Humility of Harry

Minerva McGonagall shrugged into her seat with weary limbs late on a spring evening. Over this prolonged day her tight bun loosened, her shoulders sored, and her patience shortened.

"I don't think three generations of Potters suits me Albus," she said with a sigh. She removed her hat and placed it on the expansive desk in front of her. Her square glasses slid to the tip of her nose and upon removing them she realized how dirty they were. She attempted to scrub them clean with the sleeve of her robes. "I swear it, compared to his namesake, James Potter was tame. It's as though he thinks his name is a challenge, to be more of a trouble-maker."

The portrait of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore folded his hands together with glittering eyes. "I think it keeps the halls of Hogwarts a bit more chipper. He's got Weasley blood as well, don't forget. No doubt he's learned a thing or two from his Uncle George and that joke shop of his."

Minerva relaxed. "At least there's one thing to be grateful for: he hasn't got a twin."

"Then I am sorry to remind you that Harry's second boy will be joining Hogwarts this coming September."

"Oh dear Merlin, you're right. Let's just hope he's more like his namesake than his older brother is."

An unconvinced grunt came from another portrait that sat beside Albus's. "There's not a name in the world that could stop a Potter/Weasley mutt from being an arrogant abomination. It runs strong in both families, there's no escaping it," Severus Snape declared.

Through a tired expression Minerva managed to share a knowing smile with the silver-haired wizard.

"There's a very good argument in saying Harry's mischief was less by choice than by circumstance. Most believed him to be amiable as his mother when he was child," Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair with brows raised.

"And you can't be too hard on him. His determination is the reason your forever tainted reputation has been cleaned and your portrait sits on this wall."

"Oh goody. Yes, sharing a lifelong sanctuary with the two of you was punishment indeed," he said dryly. "Ought to put me in my place. However much you disagree, unlike Mr. Potter I was a humble child. A dirty reputation or a shining one does not bear me any interest."

"Harry gave all his Tournament winnings to the Weasley twins to start up their joke shop," Dumbledore said.

"He sacrificed himself in order to defeat Voldemort."

"He only wishes to live up to his reputation not showcase it."

"No child could demonstrate humility like Harry Potter," Minerva continued. "Even in your distaste of his father should admit that, although you never will."

"It's all about opportunity and perception. He had a greater opportunity and so other perceived him to be so," Severus said, disgruntled.

"Alas, we will never convince him Minerva. Luckily we've got…what was it? 'A lifelong sanctuary of punishment' to attempt to," Dumbledore said. "For now we will just have to give young Albus Severus Potter the opportunity for humility and see how he responds. What say you Minerva?"

Minerva grinned at her speechless and dumbfounded predecessor. She stood, wrapping her robe tight around her and headed toward her chambers. "I say I'm retiring this year. James Sirius, Albus Severus or Lily Luna makes no difference to my old bones. Someone else can have my job."

The dark office silenced as Minerva left for bed. The many other portraits were either already asleep or were on their way. Dumbledore allowed a few long moments of silence drag on between them as he rested in his seat. He wondered how modest his pupil would be once he digested the information.

"I suppose the boy can't be all bad…although I detest being fronted by you Albus," Severus said finally.

"Do I detect an admittance of fondness for Harry?"

Again, Severus grunted. "For Lily's sake," he managed and Dumbledore cozied up in his chair and with a smile, fell asleep.


	4. In Due Time

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In Due Time

Alone at the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place, Sirius Black waited for the members of the Order of the Phoenix to arrive for their first meeting at the house. A small thrill surged through him. Besides a choice few, this would be the first he saw many of the members for fifteen years. Since before his time at Azkaban.

A long sip of firewhiskey calmed his nerves. All that time being in prison for no damn good reason didn't do much for a budding social life. He'd spoken to Albus Dumbledore of course and he and Remus had quickly resumed their friendship, however strained it'd been before. And of course he'd been writing to Harry.

Knocking at the door caused the vile woman that was his mother to begin screaming her bloody painted lungs off.

"Filthy Mudbloods in my house! Tainting the house of my –"

"Oh shut it you foul banshee," he called and flicked his wand while he went to open the door.

"You better not speaking to me with that language Mr. Black." Minerva McGonagall stood before him in a firm black cloak. Her usually tidy hair was over her shoulders lazily and her pointed hat sat a bit unkempt on top.

"You look lovely Professor,'' he said and she scowled, walking passed him into the foyer. "Snide as ever."

Sirius offered his dog-like grin, knowing he could snake a smile out if his favorite old teacher. And like she had years ago, McGonagall smirked.

"Tea Professor?"

"Please,'' she replied, following after him to the kitchen. "So this is where you grew up? It's... nice.''

"It's a load of rubbish and bloody hovel. I hated this bloody place. Dead useful now though. Don't have to pay for it. Convenient for the Order." Sirius turned away to fix the tea, knowing this old place was the only thing he could offer the Order. "At least my mother will be rolling over in her grave," he mumbled.

McGonagall sat at the table with her hands folded over one another. "I remember your distaste for this house vividly. And your fervent dislike for Slytherin house on the Quidditch pitch was rather... inspiring." She accepted the cup of tea he placed before and sat at the other end of the table with his firewhiskey. Her brows rose at the flask.

"Didn't get much of it in Azkaban. Trying to catch up on missed years," he half joked.

They were silent. Each studied the other silently.

Sirius noted that McGonagall hair was a bit grayer and the lines on her face tad deeper, but her spirit had not changed a bit. He recalled the loyalty and affection he'd had for his favorite professor and remembered fondly all the times he'd spent in her office being punished for one thing or another. And although he knew he'd been the bane of her existence during his those years at Hogwarts, he always nursed a healthy friendship with his mentor, bonding over Quidditch and a brilliant adoration for Gryffindor House.

Minerva held more reserved and solemn thoughts when she looked at the now grown scraggly man before her. Once her student, Sirius had grown into a strong man, however broken he was. She couldn't quite say how she felt. In his school days, Sirius and his companions had been the worst trouble-makers she'd ever encounter in her time teaching, only to be rivaled a generation later by the Weasley twins. He was the student she'd known most, the most conflicted and most clever. She'd understood his pain over his lost brother and family and rejoiced watching him find a new one in James Potter and his parents. Sirius had cried for hours in her office the day James' father died while his friend was at home. He certainly was brave and loyal.

And then suddenly, with James's death, Sirius died as well. Carted off to Azkaban without a trial. Someone must have known it was wrong, that Sirius would never have hurt James or Lily. He would've died for them.

Sirius was unaware that McGonagall fought for him, however useless it was to do so. And so she prayed to Merlin that justice would be served. She still did.

"Don't McGonagall," he said, interpreting her solemn expression. She sighed, obeying him.

"If I can't tell you how sorry I am, may I at least express that I am not one bit impressed?" Sirius screwed up his face in confusion, reminding Minerva of his younger teenage self. She smirked. "Honestly, Mr. Black, I wasn't surprised. If anyone could break out of Azkaban prison, it was you. Although I daresay it took you long enough," she chided.

Sirius stood up just in time for the doorbell to ring again and his mother went off, "Filthy bleeding Mudbloods, thrashing the good pureblood line – "

"You're really going to chastise me for not breaking free of Azkaban prison in due time? Honestly, woman after fourteen years!"

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**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review and tell me what you think! I'll be forever grateful.**

***Also, thanks Misc. for catching my typo. :)**


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